


What Escape My Fiction Provided

by likeadeuce



Category: Marvel, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Cheating, F/M, Psychic Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-06
Updated: 2010-03-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 18:49:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeadeuce/pseuds/likeadeuce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The strange thing is, Scott really did want to save his marriage.  Set during the "psychic affair" with Emma.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Escape My Fiction Provided

_ I shed what escape my fiction provided   
I lived a lifetime inside of my shelter_

-"All Been Said Before," by Matt Nathanson

Emma is sitting across the conference table staring at her fingernails.

_Emma is on her knees, in front of Scott, tongue moving fluidly over his cock. _

Storm is talking about budget projections. Hank says something that, from the laughter that follows, seems to be a joke. Scott laughs too.

_Hands clenched in Emma's hair, he comes. She moves her mouth away, gets to her feet._

Scott sits upright, a notepad propped against the table, half in his lap in case anyone is watching. It isn't necessary. He's not even aroused.

_There's no mess to clean up because nothing happened. This isn't real. Emma stands with her back to him, stretching arms over her head. For some reason, Scott still has to do up his zipper and belt -- a nice leather one, with an "X"-shaped buckle. He's pretty sure that he lost it in Hong Kong._

"So, Emma," he says to her long slender back. "What kind of therapy was that supposed to be?"

She turns her head, resting her chin on one shoulder. It looks like something he saw on a movie poster or perfume ad. He isn't sure that it's physically possible.

"Now, Scott. You know the first rule of therapy. Only I get to ask the questions."

"Scott," Storm says, and, judging by her tone, not for the first time. "I asked you a question. You're the one who called the damn 'inter-team coordination meeting.'" The way she says it, he can hear the quotation marks. "The least you can do is pay attention."

"I am –" he begins, then hears in his head, _well aware of the projected revenue shortfall, and we've already planned to handle that by diverting money, on a temporary basis, from the local outreach program._ He repeats this, out loud.

Storm actually looks abashed. "I'm sorry," she says, "I was out of line." She's been short with him a lot lately. He wonders if she has been talking to Jean.

_"Good save, there, Slim." Emma is still holding the ridiculous pose. "And don't worry, the meeting really is that boring. You aren't missing anything."_

"We need to talk about this," he says. "This is out of line."

"I didn't hear you telling me to stop. Well -- not for long."

"Would you have stopped if I had asked you to?"

"Mr. Summers, are you calling me a rapist?"

"A – what? Of course, not."

"Of course not," she agrees. "For that to be rape, this would have to be sex. And we're not having sex." She turns her whole body to face him, full on, totally naked. He looks away, and she laughs. "Don't be silly, this is just your imagination. You don't even know if this is what I look like. Although," she muses, and as she speaks, the familiar white costume appears on her. "It's not as though this outfit hides much."  


"Did I miss anything?" Scott didn't hear Jean coming, and now she's standing there, hands in the pockets of her blue jeans. Her face is a little flushed, and tendrils of hair fall fly from a messy knot at the back of her head. She's wearing a sweater that doesn't fit her very well – it falls off one shoulder, so he can see the strap of her bra.

"Nothing important," Emma says airily. "Nothing for you to let yourself be bothered with. Someday soon, no doubt, the Phoenix will return to earth, and purge us of such petty concerns as schedules and deadlines. No need for Jean Grey to concern herself –"

"One of the dogs got loose, Emma," Jean says evenly. "Hisako and Wing and I have been chasing a dog across Westchester County. Don't ask me why I didn't just telekinetically grab it because the main reason is I just didn't think –" She's standing there with hair loose, her sweater falling off, her skin flushed and her breath shallow from running in the cold, and Scott sees something that he hasn't noticed in what feels like an age, that his wife is beautiful.

_  
"You don't have to be such a bitch," he says._

"Don't be ridiculous," Emma answers smoothly. "That's what you love about me."

"I don't love anything about you. That's not what this is. I came to you because I'm trying to save my marriage. You said you'd help."

"Don't be absurd, Scott. I only said I'd listen." She slides down into a chair, and crosses her legs.

Scott jumps to his feet. "It's fine. Absolutely." He touches Jean's arm, and kisses her on the cheek, tasting the cold air on her skin and the heat beneath.

"Well, somebody's in a good mood." Jean looks in Ororo's direction and shrugs. Now Scott knows they've been talking about him.

"Thanks for the update, Ro." Scott runs a hand down his wife's sleeve, touching her fingers with his fingers. "I'll fill Jean in." He moves toward the door and she comes with him. "So which dog was it?"

_Scott,_ says Emma, her voice ringing in his brain one last time, before he determines to shut it out. _Just for the record. I never said anything about saving._

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Late Night Meeting](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8165245) by [Azrael95](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azrael95/pseuds/Azrael95)




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